


Stitch Me Up

by AshSPN



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, pretty fluffy tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshSPN/pseuds/AshSPN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s the situation that Dean finds himself in when he opens the hotel room door to find Seth standing there, face bloodied and nearly doubled over, clutching his ribs like he’s about to fall apart.</p><p>Title taken from fun.'s song 'Stitch Me Up' but there is no stitching being done in this fic. It's very misleading.</p><p>Done for prompt on tumblr:</p><p>"Can you write a story where Seth shows up at Dean's hotel room a little worse for wear and Dean helps patch him up?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitch Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I have been busier lately and I realized I need to step up my school game very soon because being in online, independent classes, I can slack off a lot, and I have been. 
> 
> Also, with me turning 16 yesterday, I have started to put in applications in the places around me. So, my schedule might be a bit more packed coming soon. I applied to Toys R Us today and they're hiring for the holidays, so, wish me luck and if you're religious, pray for me to be able to get this job to whatever god(s) you might believe in! (Personally, I am not religious, but it wouldn't hurt, I guess?) I really want to start my working career and start getting money!

There’s a point in life when something happens that you just have to put everything that’s happened to you in the past behind you, if only for that moment. Whether it be because something came up and it’s required that you put it behind you, or you just need to get through the day without thinking about it, or if an opportunity presents itself and you need to get through whatever it is causing you problems just to participate. Or maybe it’s when that something from the past shows up your door holding their ribs and looking at you like they have nowhere else to go.

No matter what happened in the past, it stops mattering if you find yourself in a situation anything like this. If that something from the past is something that you cared for and loved with all of your heart, you just care about getting that broken look off their face and seeing them at their top game again. It doesn’t matter if they are your worst enemy. It doesn’t matter if they tried to kill you or they tried to permanently hurt you. _Nothing_ matters besides making sure they’re okay. That’s the situation that Dean finds himself in when he opens the hotel room door to find Seth standing there, face bloodied and nearly doubled over, clutching his ribs like he’s about to fall apart. Dean was in _big brother_ mode before the door was even fully opened.

Dean had only been spending his night alone in his hotel room, flipping through the channels that were offered and thinking about calling Roman to see how he was doing. He had felt somewhere deep in his gut that one of his brothers was in trouble. Call it instinct. He always had a bad feeling when one of his boys were hurt. Which is why he had been thinking about making sure Roman was okay, making sure everything was healing properly. Nothing should have been going wrong so long after the surgery, right?

He had thought it was only _loneliness_ that caused the feeling in the pit of his stomach though. He thought that maybe being alone with no one to talk to was playing tricks on his mind, on his body. He missed his Shield brother more than he cared to admit – he missed _both_ of his Shield brothers more than he cared to admit. With the current turn of events, his focus had been _temporarily_ driven off of Seth for the time being. You know, now that _Bray fucking Wyatt_ has decided to set his sights on him when Dean didn’t do a damn thing. At least, not that he _remembered_ ; besides their feud during his Shield days, but c’mon, that was _so_ long ago. Bray needed to get over that if _that_ was his problem.

So, that had been put on hold, his feud with Seth, and he hadn’t seen Seth _personally_ in what felt like _forever_. In reality, it had only been about two weeks, but each second felt like a year to Dean anymore when he wasn’t in the ring. Time was always one of Dean’s worst enemies when he didn’t have something to do that had his adrenaline flowing. Dean and Seth had both been busy during the last few weeks with whatever they were doing and they just hadn’t had time to keep each other company, Dean supposes. Which is why he was so shocked when he heard a knock at the door – not only shocked, but a bit _suspicious_. His suspicions had, of course, flew out the window when he saw the condition that Seth found himself in.

After Dean had opened the door just enough, he pulls Seth into the hotel room. The man moves with a stumble to his step, then with a limp when he finally manages to get the proper footing. Dean doesn’t waste any time asking if Seth was alright, he only moves them to the bathroom, already wetting down a rag to try and clean Seth’s face of the blood. He hated seeing the younger male looking so beat up, honestly. Not that he would ever tell him that. Their eyes meet and Dean is heartbroken to see Seth’s brown eyes were watery and his jaw keeps tensing, like he was agitated and wanted to say something. However, neither of them were daring to say a word just yet. It was never a good idea for Dean and Seth to try to talk. Talking was _words._ Their words always, of course, led to _conversations_ , and their conversations led to _arguments_ , and it’s not something that needs to happen right now. Not when Seth looks like this.

Dean is boiling on the inside, if he’s completely honest, but you could have guessed that. There’s a white-hot anger raging inside of him that’s always there but something he manages to keep contained most of the time. Now, it’s threatening to swallow him alive. He wants to know who did this to his little brother. He wants to know who would ever _dare_ to put his hands on Seth when they were outside the ring, outside the arena. He wants to know because he would take them apart, joint by joint; _bone by bone_ , in fact. Seth deserved so much better than to be attacked and left like this.

Seth’s face is soon clear of the blood – which had come from a split lip, Dean had learned – and he was putting the rag against Seth’s lip when he realized it was still bleeding some. He doesn’t bother trying to hold it, though, instead he took to lifting Seth’s hand and putting it over the rag, making Seth hold it there himself. Seth doesn’t complain, he just goes with it. Dean, after a moment, has to pull it away again to quickly but gently pull Seth’s shirt off. It causes the two-tone-haired man to give a soft noise of pain, but otherwise stay silent. He doesn’t reapply the rag to his lip, instead he begins to talk.

“I didn’t know who else to go to,” Seth is whispering and Dean really wishes he wouldn’t. In fact, Dean wishes he wouldn’t so much that he just leaves the bathroom abruptly to go get some Ace Bandages from his bag that he tended to carry around with him, hoping that maybe Seth would get the signal and stop talking. As he enters the bathroom again, Dean made a show of pulling out the bandages some before he begins to wrap Seth’s ribs.  His ribs were bruised, but didn’t seem to be broken, so this was just precaution. Dean never claimed to be an expert on what to do in these situations. Despite the few moments of silence though, Seth apparentyly didn’t get the signal, and just kept talking. “I didn’t know who else would help me. I barely made it here as it is.” He sounds… broken in a way. It hits Dean hard in his chest just how pained he sounds. Like he regrets everything and it would _serve him fucking right if he did._ But those feelings had to be pushed away for now, remember?

“I’ll always be there for you,” Dean murmurs to him, hurting himself with just how true that statement is. He’s pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head to cover up his grimace of pain, finishing up in his wrapping of Seth’s ribs. “That’s what I told you, wasn’t it? Always going to be there to help you up.” His voice cracks some, but he clears it, giving a crocked smirk and a wink as he begins to clean up the bathroom now. He needed something to do when his hands. He couldn’t just stand there. A glance at Seth makes him realize he’ll have to give Seth one of his shirts since his own is covered in blood. That’s another thought he doesn’t want to dwell on. “You want some Tylenol or something for the pain? Don’t really have anything strong, but I’ve got something.”

“I miss you,” is the response that he gets instead and it makes him pause in his cleaning, rolling his shoulders back and rolling his head around once. It’s to release the sudden tension. All he wants to do is throw his head through the wall, his fist into the mirror. He wants to channel the sudden anguish he feels. “We don’t see each other much anymore.”

“No,” Dean agrees softly, “We don’t.” The words hang heavy in the air and Dean elects to just finish his cleaning, glancing to see Seth looking towards the ground. He almost looked like a kicked puppy; Dean hated it when he got that look on his face. “Hey. Stop that. Stop looking like someone just killed your puppy. No one killed your puppy, did they?”

Seth looks up at him with the most devastated expression. “No! God, no. No one killed my puppy. What is _wrong_ with you?” He asks, but Dean knows a rhetorical question when he hears it. “I just… I just hate that you hate me.”

The words strike Dean immediately and he’s feeling the need to _make sure Seth_ knows _he doesn’t hate him_. Because he should, but he _doesn’t_. He could never hate the two-toned male. He is cupping Seth’s cheek before he can stop himself, pressing their foreheads together. “Shut up. Don’t say that. I don’t hate you.”

Seth seems as shocked as Dean was to find them in this position, but his eyes shut immediately, leaning into Dean, his hand moving to Dean’s shoulder. He gives a small squeeze to the muscles there, letting out a shaky breath. “I don’t understand how you can’t hate me. After everything I’ve done.”

“If I hated you, I wouldn’t have helped you. We wouldn’t have been… _doing whatever it is we’re doing_ after you did what you did. We wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t hate you. Don’t for a goddamn minute think I hate you,” Dean mutters out, giving a soft huff as he scratches his fingernails along Seth’s beard, leaning forward to peck the simplest of kisses to his swollen lips. “Now shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch, and let’s get you a shirt, okay? And then you can stay and we can watch movies or some shit. I’ll keep an eye on you ‘til morning. Make sure you’re really alright.” It’s the least Dean could do after all, right? Guy showed up beaten at his doorstep.

Seth had made a soft noise at the kiss, but it wasn’t heard over Dean’s rambling, which he is desperately glad about. He releases another shaky breath and is just nodding. He leans forward, pecking another kiss to Dean’s lips. “Yeah, alright. I think I can do that.” Anything important could wait until morning. His ribs hurt and all he wanted was time with Dean.

“Good,” Dean murmurs and Seth finally opens his eyes, brown clashing with blue. A small smile plays at his lips.

“Good,” he replies, his smile being mirrored.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, you guys are great! Comments and kudos would be nice!!


End file.
